


Transgressions and Confessions

by ineffableomens



Category: Good Omens, Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: A little bit of angst, Azirphale - Freeform, Confessions, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Love Confessions, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, Smut, Tension, but not really, crowley - Freeform, dont read if you dont like smut, drunken, explicit - Freeform, good omens - Freeform, its smutty, seriously, very explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 13:05:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19426573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineffableomens/pseuds/ineffableomens
Summary: Upon discussing the upcoming Armageddon, Aziraphale and Crowley go for lunch. They come back to Aziraphale's place and drink, they don't sober up, and then things go a little haywire.





	1. 6000 Years

**Author's Note:**

> HULLLLLLLLOOOOO. Okay so i haven't written anything in YEARS but my ineffable husbands have brought me here. i hope it's not too awful!! Let me know what you think in the comments!
> 
> I'm basing this off the book as well as the television programme!

"Let's have lunch?" Crowley pushes in an almost tone of desperation as the angel was walking away; their some-what argument or discussion of the End-Of-The-World had caused some debate between the two. Aziraphale pitches onto this, quickly stopping in his tracks, almost instantly changing his frame of mind because of course he wants to go on a date with Crowley, as much as he doesn't want to admit it. He still stays facing away from him only a couple of feet forward, pining for Crowley to carry on his request, "I owe you one from, when was it..." Aziraphale then turns in one swift motion, a small smile etched into his soft face, his pearly whites gleaming through the small parting of his lips. "Paris, 1793-" Crowley then intervened: "-Ah yes, the Reign of Terror, wasn't that one yours?" he questions the Angel, getting the reply quickly: "Wasn't it yours?" Crowley then reflects, raises an eyebrow and walks towards his sleek, not-one-scratch-on-it 1926 Bentley, quoting "Can't recall, quite a good restaurant though...C'mon, we're having lunch." And, not really surprisingly, that's all it takes for Aziraphale to quickly shuffle along the passenger side of the Bentley, open up the heavy door and hunch himself into the left-hand seat. 

Crowley ignites the engine with a snap of his fingers, the purring causes a vibration to go through the vehicle which gives Aziraphale a teasing scare, almost as if it was mocking his fear for the automobile. Aziraphale uses great efforts to refrain from warning Crowley about going slow before he pulls off, partly knowing that Crowley won't listen and partly because he'd rather have lunch with the demon being in a good mood, after all, Angels do strive to bring the best out in people. However, whilst giving Crowley a glance that signposts to the traffic warden on the side of the road, who had so annoyingly booked his beloved Bentley in a clamp, within a moment they both saw the notebook they were holding spontaneously catch fire, bursting like a firework in front of their face. Crowley, a little a-gasp, says "I'm pretty certain that wasn't me," a smile adorning his thin yet plump lips as he looks suspectingly at the angel. Aziraphale blushes whilst smugly, yet shyly, replying "That was me." Aziraphale then catches another glance at the traffic warden, who is now in a much worse mood than before and cannot help but think that Crowley must be proud of him, that makes the angel smile. "Let's do the Ritz," Crowley states, quickly checking his back mirror to see that the clamp on his back wheel had now combusted, and then pulls off as fast as he can, ignoring Aziraphale's rampaging.

~

Both angel and demon sit on the same table, practically inches apart. Aziraphale has the last bite of his Crepes Suzette in his mouth (Which serves for two, yet Crowley refused to eat them, therefore Aziraphale ate while Crowley sipped on his fourth glass of Côteaux Champenois Rouge.) Crowley is not-so-subtly watching Aziraphale chew his food, capturing the absolute bliss upon the angel's face, studying the soft features of his delicate lashes and rose lips, he raises his eyebrows as Aziraphale opens his eyes as he begins to swallow the dessert, almost paralinguistically asking how it tasted, and whilst Crowley didn't really care about the food, he just wanted to hear his angel's opinion. "That was scrumptious," the angel declared whilst gently placing his knife and fork back down to the table, and then settles both of his hands together in his lap. Crowley doesn't reply at Aziraphale's declaration but just stares at him silently, and even though he won't admit it, endearingly.

Crowley has always watched enjoyed watching Aziraphale eat whilst they went out. He found pleasure and genuine happiness seeing his angel enjoy the food from different places of the world; he could watch Aziraphale do anything and find it endearing, encaptivating, enthralling. He's been doing it for the past 6000 years, and if someone were to ask him to do it again and again and again, he'd wouldn't even question saying yes. Crowley's adoration to Aziraphale has always been apparent to him, but he has never admitted this, too afraid to be rejected as he had already been before during the '60s. He's tried to forget that moment many times, yet every time he thinks about it, his heart yearns just a little for his angel.

His thoughts are interjected by Aziraphale.

"Are you not going to eat anything my dear, is there anything you'd like to have?" Aziraphale pushes at Crowley, knowing that his answer will be the same as it has been the past 6000 years of knowing him- "Alcohol!" Crowley then picks up his dessert spoon and clinks it to the empty wine glass on the table, carrying on his exclamation, "Lots of it, in fact, angel." Aziraphale tries to hold back the widest smile that pulls on his cheeks, he loves the small acts of excitement and silliness that Crowley has to offer, he wishes he would show his lovely nature more. Crowley notices the fondness between themselves, and although his sunglasses are blocking his heart-eyes to his transgressing companion, he revels in this sweet and genuine moment between the two.

"You know, my dear...I have multiple glasses 'Carruades de Lafite' still somewhere hidden in the bookshop, from my trip to France in 1996. I don't suppose you'd like to inquire on the finest red wine I have?" Aziraphale questions, again, knowing the answer- "Of course, angel." Crowley looks to Aziraphale, and even though the glasses upon Crowley's face are covering his beautiful amber eyes, he can still see the slight smile lines that are forming, Aziraphale then blushes once more, feeling the warmth rush to his cheeks, nose and through his chest, down towards his abdomen and straight south, a slight twitch making him shift in his chair a little. Crowley has always been the only celestial identity to make Aziraphale flustered, although he doesn't like to admit it.

"Could you say that I tempted you? Is it a temptation accomplished? I do indeed think it is," Aziraphale says proudly, wiggling his bottom in the gold-crusted chair (in efforts to make himself more comfortable due to the stiffness that has just occurred), a cheeky smile forming on his face as he looks at Crowley for a sense of approval, he gets an eye-roll and a raised eyebrow instead. "Nope? Not even a little bit?" Crowley's expression doesn't budge, Aziraphale falters slightly, his expression slowly but noticeably forming into a subtle frown. With that, Crowley notices his angel's falter and cannot help but to reassure him: "A little bit, okay? Now let's go," Crowley then snaps his fingers and a waiter comes over, thanking him for leaving a generous tip and walks away.

A shocked Aziraphale looks at Crowley with such endearment that would be impossible to hide, "My dear boy, you really are a nice dem-" and with that utterance, Crowley has now gotten up so close to his face that Aziraphale can feel the warmth of his breath but also the anger of his growl, hissing and sibilating the s's "I am not nice, I am a demon and I am not nice. Say I'm nice one more time and I'll show you _real_ 'nice,'" and with that, he snapped his fingers again causing a waiter who is carrying a large jug on the water to spill it onto a middle-aged man sat down, causing a small ruckus to occur. Aziraphale sat there for a moment assessing just how close Crowley had gotten to him, not even an inch apart. His mind wanders to the _what-ifs_ of the proximity of their faces, _what if he had just learned that little bit closer? What if Aziraphale just leaned forward a touch? What would Crowley have done?_

Aziraphale tries to not let himself get too enthralled into the thoughts of Crowley's lips as he knows that this is definitely not the time for day-dreaming and getting too flustered to the point where he can't walk properly.

Aziraphale then notices how quickly Crowley had gotten up and walked towards the entrance door, the sway of his hips just as prominent and as seductive as always. He sighs in exasperation and starts rushing after him whilst trying miracle a couple of 'special towels' that will dry off the soaked customers within one pat. Once he had done that he feels slightly more relieved and rushes out the door towards the Bentley that is roaring 'I want it all' by Queen. Crowley is sat in the driver's seat with the most irate face, and whilst Aziraphale cannot help to stop for a moment and just admire the beauty that is Crowley, he snaps back to reality (because Crowley honked his horn at him) just as quickly as he fazed out, rolls his eyes and gets into the death machine once more, praying that Crowley doesn't get him or both of them disincorporated on his their to the bookshop.

~

It is now 1 am on a Wednesday morning in Aziraphale's bookshop, angel and demon are unsteadily sat in opposite spots of the small room, swaying in their seats. The table in front of the two is covered in all sorts of wine bottles, and Crowley raises rather wobbly from his seat, "The point is," he slurs, trying again, "The point-the point is," he drags out the s's much like his snake-form would do so, "The point _is...is_ the dolphins. That-that's my point." Aziraphale nods his head so enthusiastically it looks like it's not screwed on tightly enough, he then comments in a blur of words: "Typeoffish." Crowley then throws his hands in the air, his half-full glass then spilling some of the extremely expensive wine onto the dusty wooden floors, neither of them notice this, "Nononono, s'mammal...anywho, the _point_ is. The point is. Their brains." He then reached for a bottle on the overcrowded table, discovering it was empty, then reach for the other, and poured the last bit of wine into his quarter-full glass.

They carried on this conversation of brains, and then somehow films related to _Nests,_ until inevitably discussing yet again, Armaggedon. "Just think about it,' Crowley relentlessly comments: "Do you know how long eternity is? The point is that when that bird has worn down the mountain to nothing after _millions of thousands_ of years, _you still won't have finished watching_ The Sound of Music," Aziraphale froze, Crowley took this opportunity to carry on and to tease his angel, he loved to see his reaction, "and you'll enjoy it, you'll have to! Let's be real here angel, Heaven has no taste whatsoever."

"Now-" Aziraphale tried to intervene. He failed.

"And not one single sushi restaurant."

Aziraphale stopped, a very sudden serious face is painted on.

Crowley takes this time to study Aziraphale's face, his plump lips are in a pout, he notices just how soft they are, just how plump and perfect they are. He notices his angel's eyebrows that are in a slightly upturned shape, showing his bothersome of the conversation they're having. Crowley notices Aziraphale's eyes are glistened over with perhaps the glossiness of the alcohol they had consumed, which was way over the limit of driving legality. Aziraphale sighed, his lips blown out with his breath, showing just how full they are. "I can't...I cannot interfere with the divine plan," Aziraphale croaks, and his hoarse voice plays with Crowley's emotions far too much for his liking. It sends a warmth through his cold-blooded body, a familiar feeling which only occurs around Aziraphale. He takes a wobbly step towards his angel. Perhaps a little too close considering he was swaying closer to Aziraphale than normally, he partially blames this on the alcohol.

"What about the diabolical ones?" he said. Aziraphale glances up at Crowley, looking directly into the demon's beautiful eyes, silently thanking him at the fact that he had taken them off as soon as he walked into his bookshop roughly 4 hours ago, he stays there just appreciating Crowley's beauty, often flicking his sight between his eyes and his lips, too fast for Crowley's drunken state to notice. Aziraphale partially blames this on the alcohol too. He then realises what he said- "Wait, what? Pardon?" Aziraphale steps back, almost as if he had sobered up for just one moment. Crowley then defensively backs up just as much as Aziraphale did and not another step more, absentmindedly not wanting to create too much space between them.

"Well..it- it's got. It's _got_ to be a diabolical plan, hasn't it, hmm?" He questions, and carries on: " _We're_ doing it, _my_ side." Aziraphale then combats, "Bu- _but,_ it's all part of the _divine_ plan..you can't do anything without it being part of the _ineffable divine plan._ " Aziraphale laces the aforementioned with a strong tone of smugness, Crowley can't help but stare at his opposer with a sense of fondness, drunk Aziraphale was so much more confident and cheeky than sober Aziraphale. Crowley takes another step towards his angel, testing how close he could get again, "You. Wish." Crowley is now about an inch away from Aziraphale's face, leaning down slightly as he was a little taller than the angel, his breathing as delicate as he can muster in his drunken state, the swaying of his feet bring him dangerously close to Aziraphale's face, if Aziraphale was sober he would have made a very clear note of this, claiming that "His side wouldn't like this very much," yet he says nothing, and just stares right back.

Crowley then whispers, "Take it from me. If...if we _don't_ 'interfere' with this-this, 'so-called' _ineffable divine plan_ , we are going to end up in a hell of a lot more of a worse situation than if we don't interfere, angel. Upbringing is everything." Crowley then glances down to Aziraphale's lips, just glancing for a moment, but long enough for Aziraphale to notice. Crowley glances back up, and again, Aziraphale backs up, and Crowley silently cursers a 'fuck' in his thoughts. Aziraphale then paces a little back and forth, thoughts flooding his mind, consisting of _Oh heaven's this is bad, I am far too drunk, What about Armageddon, what are we- I mean I-What am I going to do, What is Crowley thinking? Crowley, Oh Lord my dear Crowley what is he thinking, is he as drunk as me? Surely he is, he couldn't be getting this close to me unless he was absolutely drunk, what would our sides think? Oh heavens, Crowley shouldn't even be here! T _he antichrist is evil and he is going to destroy the earth!__

"Aziraphale," Crowley states, he gets no response, just a flustered angel pacing back and forth muttering under his breath. "Aziraphale." He says with slightly more power, still no response. He rolls his eyes and sighs, "Angel," he comments softly this time, knowing that this will get his attention. To his expectation, his angel stops and glances over to him, looking at him with a sense of fear, wonder and something he cannot put his finger on. Crowley goes up to him more slowly than usual, placing a hand on his shoulder ever so gently and feeling the warmth of his body flush through his own. Aziraphale lifts his head to face him "Are you really saying that this child isn't necessarily completely evil?" Crowley replies, as softly as he can, "He's potentially evil, angel. He's also potentially good too, angel. Just this huge powerhouse waiting to be shaped, we can do this, together." He brings his other hand to the angel's fingers, playing with the tips of them and then slowly interlacing his and Aziraphale's together.

"I suppose it's worth a try," Aziraphale replied, looking up at Crowley with such dependency and trust that he would never admit to, even whilst drunk. Crowley edges closer to Aziraphale, bringing a hand to his cheek ever so slowly, the warmth of the skin to skin contact is blissful, calming. "We'll be godfathers, you might say." He smiles at his angel, 6000 years he's been smiling at his angel, but he's _really_ smiling at his angel. Aziraphale cannot keep his eyes at his gaze, the power of Crowley's eyes are so astonishingly beautiful yet scary, intimidating, mysterious. The most entombing flush goes through Aziraphale's body, a rose dusting coats his face, he can feel his human-like heart racing at lightning speed within his body, almost as if it were to pang through his chest and burst through. He lets out an exasperating breath of laughter, letting go of a breath that felt like it was choking him; the tension is unbearable.

"You know...hah, I- I've never thought of that... _Godfathers._ Well...I'll be damned." He takes one last look up at Crowley to find him staring just as intense as he was a moment ago, yet Aziraphale cannot fathom the strength to look away, instead, he just holds his breath, hoping that Crowley will say something. After a moment that felt like a couple of hundred, Crowley replies.

"It's not too bad," he inches just half a millimetre closer, the space between them almost non-existent, "when you get used to it." 

There's a moment of silence between the two, and the smallest of spaces separating their lips, and then there isn't.

Aziraphale pushes his lips onto Crowley's, closing the remaining gap that was hardly even there in the first place, using his tiptoes to disregard any space between the two. Crowley sucks a breath in and shuts his eyes, for a moment he's shocked, realising that _Aziraphale kissed me_. And then a low growl forming in the back of his throat emerges, and he throws his half glass full onto the floor because he'll clean it up _later._ Crowley then slowly starts to raise his open palms and grasps his hands around Aziraphale's waist, one at a time, firmly, squeezing his angel's sides and causing a small groan to erupt.

Crowley uses this as approval to start moving his lips more dynamically, his lips part enough to swipe his tongue across his angel's, asking for permission to further the kiss. Aziraphale let's out a slight breath and part his lips, inviting Crowley's tongue into his mouth. They move in sync, parting and moulding their lips together for what feels like an eternity of bliss. Crowley gives a small nip to Aziraphale's bottom lip, pulling it inwards and sucking, causing a small gasp and breathy moan to form from Aziraphale's mouth. Crowley can feel the blood rushing to his face and to his cock by now, pulling Aziraphale closer and slamming their bodies together, his hips making contact with his angel's, a gasp erupting from him, and the feeling of growing stiffness forms against his own member, Crowley lets out another growl. Their heads are leaning to the side to give each other as much of their mouth as possible, moving their tongues and interlacing them together, Aziraphale pushes his head so that the kiss is strong, powerful. 

They kiss, Crowley leading it and starting to grasp at Aziraphale's hair, a soft kiss is now forming to be more passionate, desperate and aggressive. Crowley pulls back Aziraphale's hair to expose his neck, causing a low groan from Aziraphale, pushing his hips into Crowley's trying to keep as close and as tight as possible to the growing hard-ons in both of their trousers. Crowley dips his head just enough to say between his kisses to his angel's neck, "Do," he kisses, "you know how" nipping at the spot just below his ear, sucking and biting down just enough to cause a gasp from his angel, "long I've been wanting this?" At this point, he's sucking as hard as he can, swirling his tongue in one area, causing Aziraphale to let out an intense moan, they both start to grind on each other whilst standing. 

Aziraphale lifts his head, sucking in hard and trying to catch his breath whilst Crowley still nips at his neck, he moans out a quiet "How long?" Crowley gives the angel one last nip and lifts his head back up, breathing heavily into the angel's face, their bodies are both flush against each other's and Aziraphale's hair is an absolute mess. "6000 years," Crowley growls, slamming his lips against Aziraphale's.


	2. Giving In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very explicit so if you're not comfortable reading this sort of thing then I'm sure you'll be VERY uncomfortable reading this...hope you like it !

Aziraphale groans with the contact of Crowley's lips on his, desperately trying to pull himself closer and making sure not an inch of his body isn't plush against his demon's. They move in fluidity, small gasps of air in between french kisses, the movement of their hips against each other's stimulate jitters, eye rolls and sighs of pleasure. Aziraphale pulls back a little, trying to get a couple of words out about Crowley's confession. Crowley isn't having any of it as he goes straight back down to his neck, sucking and kissing. "Six- six thousand years? C-Crowley, O-oh god you're going to leave a mark I-" Crowley carries on licking and gently blowing cold air onto the wet area, causes a cry of pleasure to come from his angel, he instinctively gyrates his hips in response and lets out yet another growl. "Yes, that's how long I've been after you, do you realise just how desirable you are angel? I don't think you do," He doesn't let Aziraphale open his mouth before he's connecting his lips against him again. 

Crowley takes the opportunity the push Aziraphale back, shoving him past the chairs and the sofas, he corners him into the wall between two high bookcases, kissing him along the way. He interlaces his hands with his angel's and lifts them above his head, slams them up against the wall as he pulls back and stares at him dead-on. Aziraphale's breathing is coming out in short spurts as if he had just run a marathon. Crowley knows that he has to say it, even if he wasn't exactly completely sober, he knew it had to be done.

"Angel, there hasn't been one moment where I haven't wanted to touch you, kiss you and rip your clothes off. From the moment I met you and found out that your daft ass gave that flaming sword away I knew I couldn't not spend an eternity getting to know you, it...it just so happens that I ended up falling for you along the way." Aziraphale stops breathing for a second, long enough for Crowley to take note. His angel whispers, "You know...ever since the moment you saved my books in 1941, just that act alone showed to me your compassion. I hadn't even though about those books, but you did, for me. I knew from that moment that I loved you...Well, I loved you anyway, but...but that night, I fell for you, Crowley." He then looks down, "I-I just... you know that my side couldn't cope with this, I shouldn't even be doing this right now-" Crowley stops him right there again, dipping down and placing his lips on Aziraphale's, softly this time, mustering all of his love and adoration into one kiss. After a moment of soft interwinding of bodies, Crowley pulls back. 

"We're on our _own_ side angel, you and me." 

That's all it takes for Aziraphale to break, his eyes brimming with tears, "I love you, Crowley, so, so much," and he pushes himself onto his demon again, bringing both of his hands to Crowley's face, one grasping at the hair and the other making sure he can't pull away. Crowley gives in straight away, pushing his body weight onto the smaller one, the wall behind Aziraphale and the demon in front of him allowing no room to move apart from to just _kiss._ Crowley starts to wander his hands up his angel's body, tugging at the cream coat Aziraphale is wearing, practically ripping it off of his shoulders as fast as he can, never parting away from his lips whilst doing so. Crowley slips his thigh between the latter's, applying that ever-so-needed pressure against Aziraphale's member, a surge of pleasure waves through him. "Oh god," a small moan slips, Aziraphale tries to keep it quiet, not wanting to create too much noise. Crowley grinds against him in response, "Louder, angel. For me," he teasingly whispers in his angel's ear, sucking on the lobe straight after. The continuous grinding then leads to a louder, more desperate moan "Oh sh- keep doing that, please," Aziraphale whines, his head rolling back, exposing his neck again, Crowley takes the opportunity, growling at the strain that his cock is having against his trousers, the friction causing pleasure to build ever so slowly in his body. He latches onto his neck again, peppering kisses and focussing on the sweet spots of his angel's neck, loving the reaction he gets from him. He loves it when he gets flustered.

Crowley starts to fumble at the hem of his shirt and waistcoat, silently pleading for Aziraphale to help just _get them off,_ and whilst they could both miracle them away, both parties simultaneously somehow agree that it's way more fun and rewarding to actually rip the clothes off themselves. Crowley undoes the buttons of the waistcoat as fast as he can whilst Aziraphale starts unbuttoning the shirt, taking much more care and time than what Crowley does, therefore he intervenes: "C'mon angel," and with that, he's ripping the buttons off completely, the popping noises from the small buttons flying off the shirt shock the angel whilst exposing the skin under the now half broken shirt. Aziraphale sees Crowley suck his lip in a little, the arousal on his face is impossible to hide now, he feels another twitch in his undergarments and blushes harder than before. 

"Don't be shy, angel," Crowley says with such lust in his tone of voice, yet Aziraphale also hears the amount of love he has to offer him, it sends chills up his spine quite frankly. Aziraphale takes this moment to take of the shirt completely, leaving his torso bare in front of the demon, goosebumps raise upon his skin. Crowley starts to take his jacket off, never breaking eye contact with the angel. He throws the jacket to the side with no regard, closes the space between the two again and kisses just as hard as before. Aziraphale starts to tug the shirt up towards his head, causing Crowley to lift his arms. Both completely half naked, yet it's _not enough._ They kiss and kiss and kiss, the franticness between them and the deepness and their tongues that plunge in each other's mouth leaves them gasping, sweating and so fucking hard.

"Take your trousers off, now," Crowley starts to unbutton them as he says it, Aziraphale letting him with absolute approval, the fabric was constricting his solid member and he just wanted them off, he wanted to feel himself against Crowley, he needed it. The cream trousers were now unbuttoned, the zip was undone, and they were sliding off down his legs with the help of Crowley's aggressive yanking, his lust was almost becoming vigorous; it turned Aziraphale into a hot mess. Crowley does the same with his jeans, he unbuttons and unzips as fast as he can, and Aziraphale starts to pull them off of his legs. They both take a moment to look at each other, both of their eyes are glazed over with lust and intoxication. Crowley asks "Are you sure you want to do this? We can stop here angel-" Aziraphale puts a finger to the taller one's mouth, shushing him. He tells him, "If I didn't want to do this, I wouldn't be stood here nearly naked. I want this, I want you." 

Crowley let's out a deep groan, his cock twitching in his boxers, he feels the tiny bit of stickiness from his precum start to spread before he grabs Aziraphale and lifts him up, kissing him whilst he carries him to the sofa, knocking a few empty wine bottles off the table along the way, they both land on the sofa, Crowley's legs fit between Aziraphale's, grinding down on him through the thin fabric that separates them, they kiss with everything in them. Crowley starts to nip at Aziraphale's neck, lowering his body and licking down, sucking at his nipple for a moment. Aziraphale let's out a choked gasp, his hips bucking involuntarily. "O-oh, oh my goodness-" Crowley then swirls his tongue around the nipple, before pulling away and blowing cold air onto it, Aziraphale shivers in pleasure. Crowley lowers again until his nose brushes the light and delicate snail trail, he pulls the boxers down and takes a moment to look at how beautiful Aziraphale is, his member full and twitching in front of him, begging to be touched. "You want this?" He asks again, making sure his angel is comfortable. He gets his blushing angel to nod and a small "Yes," to come from his lips.

Crowley licks his lips and lowers his head, spits into his hands and closes it on the shaft, Aziraphale shudders in response from pleasure "O-oh," Crowley smirks. "Feel good already, angel?" He receives an eager nod and a small whimper and nothing else, just a writhing angel in the palm of his hand, literally. Crowley starts to slick up his angel's member, watching the droplets of precum start to spill from the head, his own cock throbs in his pants. "You're going to enjoy this," and he lowers his mouth onto the head, swirling his tongue on the slit, a jolt from his angel shows the sheer pleasure. He starts to sink lower, closing his eyes and he dips his head as far as he can go (having no gag-reflex is such a blessing, by the way.) Crowley hums a little, the vibrations adding to the sensation, and he starts to bob up and down, his pace slow yet fast enough to gather a fluent rhythm. The saliva adds to the warmth that builds in Aziraphale's body, his jaw hangs and his eyes are rolled into his sockets, his lifts his arm and places his hand on top of Crowley's head as gently as possible, slowly following the rhythm of his pumping. "That-that feels so-ah, that-that feels amazing, please k-keep going please," he can't help the bucking of his hips when short bursts of pleasure ride through his body, becoming more frequent as Crowley starts to build up speed. 

Crowley starts to hum once more, almost as if he were replying: "Of course, angel," he brings his other hand to the base of his angel's shaft and starts to jerk at the same rhythm of his head, the pace speeding up as Aziraphale's body starts to shiver a little, his legs clamping around Crowley's body tighter as time passes. Aziraphale groans "Oh shi- Crowley I, ah," Crowley can tell he's trying to stop himself from swearing, and it's quite entertaining. He pushes his head as far as he can go and brings his hand from the shaft to his angel's nipple, pinching it as hard as he can. He gets a jolt, a hip-buck and a whinging cry in response, Crowley pushes his angel's hips down and starts to bop his head faster, every now and then stopping at the tip and sucking.

"Y-you know, you're really good at this-ah! I-if you keep going...at this rate I'm not going to las-" He interrupts himself with a groan as he bucks his hips once more, the tension in his lower stomach building incredibly fast and Crowley hums _yet again,_ "Crowley, ah shit- Crowley! I'm not- I'm going to-" and with that, Crowley stops and pulls away. Aziraphale lifts his head in shock and almost anger "What? why'd you stop, I-i'm so, oh _fuck,_ I'm so close!" he groans and his climax starts to fade away, the throbbing of his cock is almost unbearable.

Crowley answers in the smuggest voice, "Because, angel, we're getting off together, if that's alright with you." He says in an almost matter of a fact way, and Aziraphale almost immediately complies, "O-oh, yes! Please yes, hurry," he throws his head back down onto the pillow, trying to calm himself and his heartbeat down back to normal from his near orgasm. Crowley's ripping his boxers off as fast as he can, the same with the spitting onto his hand on his own throbbing prick, a near silent moan erupts from his mouth as he slicks up his full member, and then uses the rest of the spit for his fingers.

"I'm going to prep you, alright? I'll go easy," he says as he teases the entrance, ever so slightly pushing the tip of his finger in, Aziraphale sighs from pleasure, he works the finger in and then manages to slip another in, for a couple of minutes he just sits there and makes sure that Aziraphale is ready and spread enough. When Aziraphale ends up practically begging him to _"Just put it in Crowley!"_

He spits again on his hand and slicks his member once more for luck, making sure it's wet enough to make it smooth, he pushes the tip to the entrance and gives his angel one last kiss before he starts steadily and slowly to push it in. Aziraphale slightly tenses at the stretch but manages to stay relaxed enough and adjusts surprisingly well. Crowley lets out a sigh of pleasure for finally getting some relief of his throbbing cock. It takes a couple of moments, but he's fully inside of his angel, just waiting for approval to move. Crowley is trying his best not to moan or move because his angel is _so tight and it feels so good._

 _"_ Move, Crowley, please," Aziraphale asks, and Crowley nods, starts to kiss him and pulls back just enough to feel the pleasure already start to build. He pushes back in and repeats these actions for a couple of thrusts as he kisses his angel with so many care and passion. He lets out a shaky moan, "I'm going to start to go a little fast, okay?" and he gets a small "yes," in reply. Crowley pulls back until his tip is nearly out, and pushes back in more powerfully, and he throws his head back, trying not to groan and the tightness of his angel. He starts to thrust at a faster pace, holding Aziraphale's hips and he pumps himself in and out, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, his angel is moaning and breathing heavily. "Oh fuck," he whispers under his gasps, pulling his angel even closer to his body by his hips and leaning down, thrusting whilst plush against his angel's body, kissing him and his neck and he grinds his hips back and forth. As he continuously builds speed, the pleasure in his lower stomach starts to build and he keeps at that pace, where it's not too much to make him come, but enough to give him the feeling of pure bliss, he keeps of thrusting until he hears the most guttural groan come from his angel: "Oh shit Crowley, right there-ah! Ooh fuck, right there keep going!" 

He must have found his angel's sweet spot, and with that reaction, he almost comes at just the reaction from Aziraphale. "Right there, angel?" He asks while staying in that one spot, thrusting just as fast as before but with more power behind his drive, he can feel his tip hit the spot that caused such a reaction out of his love. Aziraphale almost cries out "Oh my god, yes! There there there keep going there please," he pulls Crowley down against him, kissing him whilst moaning between breathes, Crowley starts to speed up as he can feel the tension building as such a fast rate it's catching up on his breath, "Oh f-fuck," Crowley growls, biting down of Aziraphale's neck to muffle his groans and he speeds up again, his angel cries out a moan "U-uh, oh shit keep going, I'm close-" "Me too, angel, me too, urgh fuck," Crowley keeps going, his thrusts building a tension that's begging to be released, almost as if a knot was about to unleash. His jaw starts to slack as he feels his orgasm starting to wave over, Aziraphale's body starts to jerk and tense. Crowley keeps thrusting as he's _so nearly there,_ and within three or four more grinds Aziraphale is crying out as his body spasms "O-oh fuck!" His angel releases, gasping and spurts of come are landing on his torso. Crowley thrust just once more before he feels the edge finally release, almost shouting out a "Fuck" as he drags out the fricative, grasping so hard onto his angel's hips that it'll leave a bruise, his own hips bucking inside of his Angel as waves of pleasure come in intervals.

After some moments of twitching, waves of pleasure and catching up on their breath, they look at each other and give a small laugh. They clean up the mess they had made with a snap of their fingers and get back into their newly fresh boxers, they sit next to each other on the sofa again. Aziraphale leans his head against Crowley's shoulder, their hands both intertwined with one another's. Aziraphale breathes out, "So...6000 years huh?" Crowley laughs in response, throws his head back and really laughs. "Ha, yeah. 6000 years worth of sexual pining, what did you think?" He looks to the side and catches eye contact with his companion. "Well, it definitely sobered me up, so if that doesn't tell you how good it was, I don't know what will." 

"I'll take that," Crowley replies, smiling. He pulls his angel for a kiss, Aziraphale happily complies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, that was dirty...lemme know what u think haha. Not sure whether to end this fic here or carry it on or to try another plot, we'll see where it takes us!


End file.
